


how you get your kisses to fill me with electricity

by Leprechon



Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: M/M, Superpowers, even is Mysterious and drives a motorcycle, isak is protective and fights anyone with a pulse, lets go lets go lets go
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-26
Updated: 2017-05-26
Packaged: 2018-11-04 16:45:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10994913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leprechon/pseuds/Leprechon
Summary: isak gets struck by lightningmeanwhile, the boy sitting next to him in detention won't stop staring at him





	how you get your kisses to fill me with electricity

Isak thinks it starts with the mashed potatoes.

He stares down at his plate and grimaces, pushing the white mess around on his plate. In front of him, Eva is shoveling mashed potatoes down her throat.

He looks at her disgustedly. "Eva," he starts, raising his voice to be heard over the din of the loud cafeteria, "You're revolting."

Eva barely acknowledges him and continues eating, flapping a hand in his face distractedly. Her plate is almost halfway gone and it's only been about ten minutes since lunch began. Isak is oddly impressed.

"Eva," he tries again. "Eva, how can you eat this stuff? It's, like,  _poisonous_."

Eva rolls her eyes. "Be quiet. The mashed potatoes here are literally the best thing this school has ever done or will _ever_ do," she says around a mouthful.

Isak digs his fork in and lifts it up, watching the food slowly ooze back down to his plate with distaste. "It literally has the consistency of spoiled milk."

Eva just ignores him. "I love mashed potato day. Best day of the month," she sighs wistfully. She frowns at Isak when she catches him etching out a rough smiley face in his food with the tip of a prong on his fork. "Stop playing with your food, Isak. Give it to me. Give it here," she says, snatching the fork away from him. She pulls the plate towards her and tries to scoop Isak's portion on her plate.

Isak sniffs and feels only a _little_ bit insulted. "What am I supposed to eat then?" he demands. He flops backwards in his chair dramatically, splaying his legs out. "Are you trying to make me  _die_ of hunger?"

Eva rolls her eyes again. Isak thinks that if she keeps doing that, her eyes will permanently stay that way. He tells her as much.

"Oh, shut up, will you?" she huffs, rolling her eyes pointedly in his direction. She throws her fork down and turns to dig in her bag. "You're so high maintenance, I swear. You're more dramatic than Jonas, and he's actually  _in_ theater." She straightens back up and quickly throws an apple in Isak's direction, smiling in satisfaction as she watches him scramble to catch it. "There. Now you can stop complaining."

"You're a saint," Isak grumbles, staring down at the apple. "Eva, there's  _hair_ stuck to it. And it's bruised." 

Eva shrugs. "So? It's been at the bottom of my bag for a couple of weeks, but it should still be fine. Edible and all. Just dust off the hair and stuff." She reaches over and plucks off a hair wrapped around the stem of the apple to emphasize her point.

Isak stares at her. "Are you serious?"

Eva frowns irritably. "Uh, yeah?"

"I can't eat this! It's  _disgusting_."

"God, you're so ungrateful. You were literally complaining about not having food to eat a moment ago and now that I gave you some, you complain some more? Brat."

Isak bristles. "There's a  _standard_ , okay? I'm not just gonna-"

Isak breaks off abruptly and narrows his eyes into a glare. He stands up abruptly.

Eva looks at him curiously. "Isak? What're you-"

"Hey, asshole!" Isak yells. A number of people turn to look at him, including the two boys he's glaring at.

"Me?" one of the boys asks. He makes a show of pointing at himself and looking around.

Isak grits his teeth. "Yes you, ugly. Come here."

The two boys wander over, smirking. The one he's yelling at specifically is older, maybe a third year. Isak thinks his name is Karl.

"You called?" maybe-Karl says. His friend snorts, as if what he said was particularly funny or witty. 

Isak scowls. "Yeah, I did actually. I just have one question. Do you get off on being nasty, immature assholes or?" Isak hisses. His blood is  _boiling_.

Eva gasps, scandalized. " _Isak_." 

The boys' smirks widen, if possible. "I don't know what you're talking about, man. Maybe you have me confused with someone else?" maybe-Karl says.

"Oh, so it wasn't you who said that _just now_ as you were passing our table? It was someone else?" Isak spits. "Please. Unlike you, I have at least an iota of intelligence."

Maybe-Karl rolls his eyes. "Said _what_?"

Isak tries to not falter too noticeably. "Well, I didn't actually _hear_  exactly what you fucking said. I just know it was nasty."

His friend snorts again. "So you don't actually know what he said but you're yelling at us anyway? Nice, Valtersen."

"I fucking got the  _gist_ , okay?" Isak barks. "Apologize."

"Uh, no? Why are you telling me to apologize for something you barely heard me say?"

"Because it means you're a decent fucking human being? Jesus Christ, are you  _dumb_?" Isak says. "Apologize.  _Now_."

"Apologize for what, Isak?" Eva whispers. She's stopped eating and has taken to staring nervously between Isak and the two boys, flitting her eyes back and forth as if she's watching a tennis match.

His friend nudges maybe-Karl. "Maybe you should refresh their memories?"

Maybe-Karl throws up his hands and laughs. "Alright, alright. You caught me," he says. He looks at Isak innocently. "All I _said_ was that if your fat friend keeps eating mashed potatoes like that, she'll have to get airlifted out of school like that woman in Egypt. That's all."

Isak punches him.

 

* * *

 

His guidance counsellor doesn't even look surprised to see him.

"Isak," he says tiredly. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

Isak throws his backpack onto the ground and sinks into the large armchair in front of his guidance counsellor's desk.

"I'd just like to state for the record that it  _wasn't_ my fault this time," Isak says haughtily.

His guidance counsellor shakes his head. "It never is," he mutters. He stabs at his salad and Isak  _almost_ feels bad when he realizes that he's interrupted his counsellor's lunch period as well.  _Almost_.

"So do you want to start or should I?" his counsellor continues.

Isak sniffs moodily but stays silent.

"Isak," his counsellor sighs. "Why did you punch poor Kristian Berg in the face?"

Isak looks up sharply. " _Kristian_?  _Kristian_? That's his name? I could've sworn it was Karl. Would've bet my life on it too."

"Isak."

Isak rolls his eyes. "He called Eva fat and said that if she keeps eating so many mashed potatoes, she'll have to get airlifted out of school like that woman in Egypt."

His counsellor studies him for a moment. "A woman was airlifted in Egypt?"

Isak shrugs. "I guess. Do you see now why I had no choice but to punch him? You can't just say those things. You  _can't_."

His counsellor swallows. "No, Isak, I really don't. You can't just go around punching people who have different opinions than you."

"Making fun of someone's weight isn't an  _opinion_ , Jan. It's despicable and I'm not going to apologize for defending my friends," Isak shoots back.

"How many times have I told you not to call me by my first name?" he says. "Look, Isak. You're such a good kid and you have such a bright future ahead of you. You're at the top of your class in biology and your teachers speak very highly of you. But you need to learn that violence cannot and will not solve anything. Violence is temporary gratification that only results in longterm repercussions."

Isak tunes him out. He's heard this particular speech hundreds of times before and he's pretty sure he can recite it in his sleep. He stares at a poster on the wall above the desk. It's a motivational poster that features a cat dangling off of a clothesline. The caption reads  _Hang in there baby!_ Isak thinks it's quite juvenile.

"Isak? Are you even listening to me?" 

Isak refocuses on his counsellor and blinks.

His guidance counsellor sighs. "Isak, you need to understand that if you keep hitting people, one day, maybe very soon, they're going to start hitting back. What are you going to do when that happens?"

Isak shakes his head. "They try to hit back  _all_ the time, but it never works because I'm too fast for them."

"What if you make a mistake, Isak? What if you trip and fall?"

"No. See, lately, I've started Zumba. It's supposed to help foot agility, so there's really no chance of me tripping and falling."

"Zumba," his counsellor says, staring at him.

"Yes," Isak says primly. "I have a video."

His counsellor looks like he's not quite sure what to reply to that. He shoves a forkful of salad into his mouth to avoid responding.

Isak glances at the clock. "Well, Jan. It's been fun. Am I free to go back to lunch now? The period's almost over and I'd like to at least eat something small."

His guidance counsellor swallows. "Yes of course. Have a good rest of the day and make sure you don't get into anymore trouble."

Isak nods and swings his backpack over his shoulder. He almost makes it out the door before his guidance counsellor stops him. 

"Oh, and Isak," he calls pleasantly.

Isak turns around and raises an eyebrow. "Mhm?"

"That'll be another week of detention," he says. There's a dab of salad dressing at the corner of his mouth. "Added on to the four weeks you already have."

Isak smiles sweetly at him. "Give my best to your wife, Jan."

He leaves.

 

* * *

 

Detention isn't all that bad.

Isak's had detention so many times that it doesn't even faze him anymore. It's relatively tame. He's basically just required to sit in the auditorium for an hour under the supervision of the new music teacher. He's allowed to do anything, like read, do homework, or watch Jonas act in the drama club rehearsals on stage. The only issue is that talking isn't allowed, but, then again, Isak doesn't really want to talk to anyone else in detention anyway. They're sorted by grade levels and most of the people in detention are third years, so they sit in the back. Isak sits in the front, with only one other first year. His name's Thor and he has his face tattooed, so Isak tries to stay clear of him. 

The drama club is in the middle of the first act of  _High Society_ when the music teacher calls him over.

"Isak," he says happily when he approaches him. He beams at Isak. "I'm _very_ happy to see you. I need to talk to you."

Isak raises an eyebrow at him. "Have I done something wrong?"

"No, no! Nothing like that. You're such an excellent boy, Isak," he hurriedly assures him. He lowers his voice and glances around himself conspiratorially. "Well, it's the  _third years_ , Isak."

"The third years, sir?" Isak asks, confused when he doesn't elaborate.

He sighs and points to the back of the auditorium, where all of the third years sit. "They're just so  _rowdy_ ," he whispers.

Isak nods along sympathetically.

The third years have an unfortunate tendency to be loud and restless, especially during drama club rehearsals. Isak thinks that putting a new teacher that couldn't be taller than five foot five in charge of a bunch of giant third years, many of whom happen to be football players, is downright  _ridiculous._ Isak doesn't see how he can possibly try to keep them from fighting each other. All he can do is threaten to write them up when they act up, which only leads to them having longer detentions, which means that he has to keep them from fighting for that much longer. It's the worst idea anyone's ever had.

The music teacher turns back to Isak and peers up at him from behind his thick glasses. "I hate to put you in this position, Isak, but you've always been such a good boy in detention, always cooperating and never causing a ruckus. You've honestly been the  _perfect_ model of behavior. And I've read that putting someone like you, someone so young who behaves and acts so responsibly, in the middle of a rambunctious and testosterone-driven group has  _great_ effects and is able to diffuse some of the loudness and excess energy that all of those boys have. If it's alright with you, would you consider switching to sit with the third years in the back? If not, I understand. I know Thor might get a little lonely-"

"Okay," Isak says, interrupting him. He shrugs. "That's fine with me."

The music teacher's mouth drops open in surprise and relief. "Oh, thank you so much Isak. You're such a wonderful boy, bless your heart. If you could, then, just sit between Bech Næsheim and Brekke. This will be perfect, Isak. The perfect solution."

Isak turns back to his seat and slings his backpack over his shoulder. He shoves his way down the third years' row, kicking guys in the shins when they don't lift their feet. He realizes belatedly that he doesn't know who Bech Næsheim or Brekke are, so he really has no idea who to sit next to or when to stop. He keeps going, though, and almost reaches the end of the row before someone catches his wrist and he turns around.

The first thing he thinks is  _blue_.

"Isak? I'm Bech Næsheim. You're right here," the boy says, staring up at him with the  _bluest_ eyes Isak has ever seen.

"Thanks," Isak mumbles, shaking his head. In detention, they're only allowed to sit one seat apart from one another, so that requires everyone from Bech Næsheim down to move over one. The boy doesn't seem to mind, though. He picks up his things-he doesn't have much, only a denim jacket and a sketchbook and pencil-and moves over, watching Isak as he arranges his backpack under his chair. 

Isak straightens up and shoots him a shy smile.

"Hello," the boy says and offers Isak his hand. "I'm Even."

"Isak," he says.

Even grins widely and leans across the seat, over towards him. "I know."

Isak just stares at him, blushing slightly. He's a little overwhelmed, to say the least, and he silently sends a million thanks to the new music teacher for choosing to put him next to this very cute, very nice third year.

"Your eyes are very blue," Isak blurts out suddenly. He immediately wants the ground to open up and swallow him whole.

He stares at Even in mortified silence as the other boy's grin widens. Even looks  _delighted_.

"Oh, really? I hadn't noticed," Even teases.

The boy on the other side of Isak, Brekke, snorts quietly behind him. Isak's face flushes further.

Even looks at him and rolls his eyes. "Shut it, Brekke."

" _Shhhh_!" the new music teacher shushes, clapping his hands sharply. "Stop talking. If I hear another word from any of you, I'm giving you another week of detention."

Everyone quiets down. Isak turns back to his biology homework and Even buries his nose in his sketchbook. He's hyperaware of everything Even does, of every move or sound he makes, and Isak sits for the rest of detention, unfocused, and barely gets any questions on his homework done.

 

* * *

 

Isak meets Eva outside the auditorium doors after detention.

"Isak!" Eva shouts. She gathers him up in a hug and squeezes him tightly. "That was so great today. You really didn't have to do that, but still. That was amazing."

Isak smiles weakly and pats her head, waiting for her to release him. "Of course I had to, Eva. You're my best friend. I couldn't just let him say that about you."

Eva beams at him. "Love you so much, Isak," she coos. She takes his hand and begins to gently tug him in the direction of the parking lot. "Jonas has drama club for another hour, so he won't be coming home with us."

Isak shrugs and scans the parking lot for Eva's car, frowning when he doesn't see it. "Um, Eva? Where's your car?"

"Oh, I dropped it off at home and got my mom to drive me back here. I thought it would be a good idea to walk home, just you and me!" 

Isak blinks at her and glances pointedly at the cloudy sky. "Eva, we live like twenty minutes away and it looks like it's going to start raining."

Eva bobs her head. "That's why we should walk fast! Power walking, yay!"

Isak squints at her. "Eva..."

"Look, Isak, it's not that big of a deal. I just want to walk home, exercise a little. What's so wrong with that?"

"Is-is this about what Kristian Berg said today in the cafeteria?" Isak asks incredulously. 

Eva frowns. "Kristian? What? I thought his name was Klaus."

"Come _on_ , Eva. You know he was just being an asshole. You are  _not_ fat, don't listen to him," Isak says. He steps closer to Eva and wraps an arm around her. "This is such bullshit. You're, like, the most perfect person I know. So what if he said you're fat? Being fat is _not_ a bad thing. You're beautiful no matter what your body looks like. But that still doesn't mean you're fat. Because you're not."

Eva still doesn't look convinced. Isak presses closer. 

"Kristian Berg is an  _imbecile_. Do you really care about what he says or thinks? You're so beautiful, Eva. Please don't listen to him."

Eva takes a deep breath and turns her face into Isak's shoulder. "I know. I'm just." She bites her lip. "Can we just drop it? Please?"

Isak kisses her forehead. "Yeah of course," he says softly. He pulls away and smiles at her. "Come on, let's walk. We're gonna have to run if we want to beat the storm." He turns to head in the direction of their houses.

He stops short.

A motorcycle has pulled up to them and is idling by the curb, waiting. Even from detention sits astride it, wearing his denim jacket and a black helmet with the visor flipped open. Isak can't see his eyes because they're hidden by a pair of shiny black aviators, but he can practically  _feel_ Even's gaze on him, heavy and expectant. 

Isak is pretty sure his brain has short circuited. 

"Hey," Even calls. "Isak, do you need a ride?"

Isak bites his lip and closes his eyes momentarily. He really has the worst luck. 

"Um, no thanks," Isak says. "We're, uh, going to walk."

Even stares at him. He points at the sky. "It's going to rain," he says slowly. 

"I know," Isak says. He feels  _ridiculous_. "We're going to walk anyway."

Even's eyes flicker between Eva and Isak, looking like he's at a loss for words. "Um, okay. I hope, uh, everything works out okay?" The lilt at the end of his voice makes it sound like a question. "Bye Isak. See you tomorrow."

He drives off. Isak watches him go sadly. 

Eva turns to him and narrows her eyes suspiciously. "Isak," she begins, voice low. "Who was that?"

Isak rolls his eyes and turns to walk in the opposite direction. "Just some guy."

Eva catches up to him easily. "Just some  _guy_? Just some  _guy_? Some male model rode up to you on his motorcycle and offered you a ride and you have the nerve to tell me that it's _just_   _some guy_?"

Isak shrugs helplessly. "Um, I met him in detention?"

Eva huffs, exasperated. "What's his name?"

"Even."

"What year?"

"Third."

"How'd you meet?"

"I don't know! Fuck, Eva. In detention, I already told you. What's with the third degree?" Isak says, throwing his hands up. "Leave me alone."

Eva glares at him. "Whatever. You better spill more details later."

"Eva, I promise you there's nothing to tell."

"Fine."

"Fine."

"Fine."

"Fine."

They walk in silence for a few moments before-

"Did you _see_ his butt when he rode away though?"

"Shut up Eva!"

 

* * *

 

It starts thundering.

Isak swears loudly and looks around. "Eva. We need to get under somewhere.  _Quickly_."

Eva stops him and points at the metal bleachers that surround the athletics field. "There."

Isak stares at her. "It's a  _thunderstorm_. It's dangerous to hide under anything metal."

"Do you see any other option?" Eva snaps. She's right; it's the only shelter around, unless they want to risk it and run the five minutes back to the school. 

Isak groans. "Fuck. This is such a bad idea. Okay, come on." He stalks towards the bleachers and throws his backpack on the ground, slumping against one of the metal poles. Eva follows him nervously.

"I'm sorry," Eva tells him miserably. 

Isak eyes her curiously. "For what?"

"For getting us into this mess. If it wasn't for my stupid idea to go walking, this would've never happened."

Isak softens. "Aw, Eva. No, don't think like that. It's okay, totally not your fault."

She sniffs. "I'm still really sorry."

"Trust me, it's fine. Why are you upset? We've been through plenty of thunderstorms before, it'll be fine."

"Okay. Love you."

"Love you too, Eva. I promise-"

A bolt of lightning lights up the sky and splits into many branches. One of the branches hits something in the middle of a field not far from the bleachers. Thunder sounds so loud that it shakes the ground beneath Isak's feet. 

"Fuck."

Eva looks at the ground and laughs, a tiny bit hysterical. "Wow. Okay. So we're probably going to die."

"We're not going to die," Isak snaps. He shoves his hands into his pockets and tries to hide his grimace. "We are  _not_ going to die."

"If I die," Eva starts. She flops down on the ground and curls herself into a ball. "Tell Jonas I love him and that I'm sorry I broke his favorite makeup brush."

"Eva-"

"Tell my mom that I'm sorry that I never got her a mother's day card-"

"Eva-"

"I don't want to  _die,_ I have so much to live for-"

"Shut  _up_ , let me talk-"

"Oh,  _God_ -"

"I hate you so much-"

"Isak-"

"Why won't you just let me  _talk_ -"

" _Isak_ , don't-"

There's a big explosion that drowns everything out. Isak doesn't hear what she says next. 

 

* * *

 

His mother accosts him as soon as he walks through the door.

"Isak!" she cries. She sways up to him, wine glass in hand. A large, elaborate white hat sits on her head, akin to one of those hats that the ladies at the Kentucky Derby wear. 

"Mother," he greets her warily. He eyes her hat.

"Did drama club run late?"

Isak nods. To avoid the inevitable grounding he'd get if his mother knew he spends his afternoons in detention, he'd told her that he'd joined drama club with Jonas as a stagehand. It's worked out pretty well so far; Eva picks him (and sometimes Jonas) up from school every day and his guidance counsellor, thankfully, never calls home.

She beams at him.

"Mother," he says again, "Mother, what's that on your head?"

"It's a hat, Isak. A  _hat_ ," she says. She takes a long sip of her wine and adjusts the hat. "Mrs. Larsen from next door came over for some wine and she brought some hats over to try on. Isn't it just _lovely_?"

"It, uh, it sure is interesting."

"Come, come." She grabs his hand and pulls him into the living room. Mrs. Larsen is sitting there, drinking straight from a bottle of wine with a similar hat perched on her head and a pile of them sitting on the cushion next to her, and he gives her a small wave, feeling awkward and out of place.

His mother flounces over and plucks a hat from the stack. She selects a large green one and throws it on Isak's head.

"Oh, doesn't he look  _darling_ , Mrs. Larsen?" his mother coos. She drains her glass. "It really brings out the color in his eyes."

Mrs. Larsen nods, letting out a tiny hiccup. "Beautiful."

His mother goes to set the empty glass on the table but misjudges the distance. The glass almost shatters all over the floor but Isak catches his mother's wrist just in time, guiding her hand to set it down gently. 

Isak figures it's time to leave. He brushes his curls out of his eyes and shoots a small smile in Mrs. Larsen's direction. "It was nice to meet you, but I have to go and do some homework now. Um, bye."

He flees.

 

* * *

 

He's just collapsed on his bed when his phone beeps.

 

**The bane of my existence**

_isak_

 

**Isak**

_wat_

 

**The bane of my existence**

_U can't just ignore me forever!! U literally got struck by fucking lightning_

 

**Isak**

_so?_

 

**The bane of my existence**

_i don't think U understand!!! U LITERALLY GOT HIT BY LIGHTNING!!!!_

 

**The bane of my existence**

_U GOT HIT BY LIGHTNING AND THE NEXT THING I KNEW U WERE FIVE FEET AWAY FROM WHERE U WERE STANDING WITH UR HAIR STICKING UP ALL OVER THE PLACE!!! I LITERALLY SAW LIGHTNING COME OUT OF U!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!_

 

**Isak**

_i feel fine_

 

**Isak**

_just a little energized_

 

**Isak**

_like the energizer bunny ha_

 

**The bane of my existence**

_U are literally the worst_

 

**The bane of my existence**

_U know i've read about this!! people who were struck by lightning the way U were and felt fine and then guess what???_

 

**Isak**

_wat_

 

**The bane of my existence**

_BAM_

 

**The bane of my existence**

_they die of a heart attack!!! JUST LIKE THAT!!!_

 

**Isak**

_eva i'm not going to die of a heart attack_

 

**The bane of my existence**

_how do U know???_

 

**Isak**

_i just know_

 

**Isak**

_look if i start feeling funny i'll let you know asap but for now can you please drop it_

 

**The bane of my existence**

_fine. promise?_

 

**Isak**

_promise_

 

**The bane of my existence**

_good. i don't want my only friend to die_

 

**Isak**

_im not your ONLY friend....jonas counts doesnt he?_

 

**The bane of my existence**

_he's my boyfriend of course he doesn't count_

 

**The bane of my existence**

_plus U need to stay alive so you can bang tht hottie from detention (; (; (;_

 

**Isak**

_ugh_

 

**Isak**

_lea just came in so i gotta go ok ill talk to you tomorrow morning_

 

He throws his phone somewhere over his shoulder and sighs, looking up at his sister.

"What do you want?" he asks her.

Lea eyes him. "Nice hat. Brings out the color in your eyes."

He blushes. He had forgotten about the hat. He whips it off and tosses it under the bed. "What do you  _want_?" he says again.

Lea steps inside and takes a seat at his desk. She swivels around in his desk chair to face him. 

There are a couple of beats of silence. Lea just stares at him. 

" _What_?" Isak demands irritably. 

"A little birdie told me that you've had quite an _electric_  afternoon," Lea says with an air of mystery.

Isak stares at her.

"It must have been very  _shock_ ing," she continues.

Isak's jaw goes slack.

"It really must've  _struck_ you. You must not know how to  _conduct_ yourself."

Isak takes a deep breath. "That one was terrible," he says weakly. "Just awful."

Lea grimaces. "Yeah, I know. There's not many good lightning puns on the Internet, you know."

Isak blinks. "Why do you talk to Eva?"

"Eva and I are friends."

"You and Eva are not friends. Eva is  _my_ friend. Not yours. Can't you talk to people your own age?"

Lea waves him off. "That's beside the point. Stop being rude to me. Respect your elders."

"You're older than me by only, like, three years!" Isak protests.

Lea squints her eyes at him. "It's interesting to me how you're literally ignoring the fact that you got hit by a bolt of lightning today."

Isak rolls his eyes. "I'm not  _ignoring_ it," he stresses. "I'm just not gonna worry about it. I feel fine."

"Alright. Stand up," Lea sighs.

"What? Why?"

"Why else? We need to check for entrance and exit wounds."

"What?  _Why_?"

"So we know where the lightning entered and exited you, doofus. Come on. Up, up, up."

Lea pulls Isak off the bed and makes him stand in front of her. She takes his hands and meticulously examines his arms. When she doesn't find anything, she reaches up and makes Isak bend down so she can examine his neck and head, running her hands through his curls carefully. 

"Nothing on your arms, neck, or scalp," Lea mutters. She pushes Isak away and tugs at the hem of his shirt. "Now get your shirt off. Come on."

Isak bats her hands away. "Excuse me,  _what_? I'm absolutely not taking off my shirt in front of you!"

Lea crosses her arms. "And why not?"

Isak stares at her. "Because you're my  _sister_?"

"Who cares?" Lea huffs, rolling her eyes. She wrestles Isak to the ground and begins to tug his shirt over his head. "This is more important than your weird values."

"Weird values?" he mutters. "What're you going to do when you don't find any on my chest, then? Gonna take my pants off for me too?" he demands, groaning when Lea accidentally knees him in the stomach. 

"I'll turn around and let you do it," Lea mumbles. She finally gets his shirt off and surveys Isak for a moment before she abruptly slaps her hand down in the middle of his chest, right over his heart. "Ah  _ha_! There we go."

"What?" Isak wheezes.

"There!" she crows victoriously. She points at a small, lightning bolt shaped scar on his chest. It's a deep, angry red with pale tendrils snaking off. Lea snorts. "A  _lightning bolt_ , Isak? How cliche."

Isak scowls. "It's not like I could control what the damn thing looks like!" he says.

She pokes at the scar. "Does it hurt at all?"

Isak grabs her finger and pushes her off of him. "No. Stop touching me."

Lea grins at him. "Wow. You're almost like an uglier, blonder version of Harry Potter."

Isak sticks his tongue out at her. "Are you finished?"

"Yeah, yeah," she says. She claps her hands together. "Alright, get your pants off. We gotta check for the second wound."

 

* * *

 

"Nice jeans," Eva comments when he slides into the backseat of her car the next morning.

"Thanks," Isak mutters. He shoves the last bit of his granola bar in his mouth.

Jonas snorts disgustedly from the passenger seat. "Have you lost your mind?" he demands. "Those jeans are  _not_ nice. They look like they're two seconds away from falling apart. Does there really need to be _that_ many holes in them? You might as well just not wear pants to school with the amount of skin you're showing. God."

"Good morning to you too, Jonas," Isak says. "I like these jeans. Also get your hand off of Eva's thigh. She's driving, I'm in the car with you, and it's seven in the goddamn morning."

Jonas doesn't remove his hand, instead choosing to squeeze Eva's thigh gently. "How did your mom even let you out of the house looking like that?"

"Just wondering but why do you have to be so bitchy in the morning, Jonas?"

"I'm not bitchy!" Jonas says, whipping around to face him.

"Alright, whatever you say."

"You look like garbage," Jonas informs him.

Eva laughs. "Jonas, babe. Cut him some slack. He's just trying to impress that one boy from detention," she teases.

Isak rolls his eyes.

"What boy from detention?" Jonas demands. "Tell me."

"Isak met some hot guy in detention yesterday who offered to give him a ride on his  _motorcycle_ ," Eva tells him. 

"Really?" Jonas wrinkles his nose. "Isak, point him out to me today after school."

"It was very cute," Eva says.

"Be quiet. There's nothing wrong with wanting to dress nicely," Isak says primly. "I just wanted to shake things up a little."

"More like you wanted to shake the guy from _detention_ up. In bed," Eva snickers lamely. Jonas gives her a fist bump.

Isak shakes his head. "That was awful," he tells her. 

"It's still better than anything  _you_ could come up with," Eva shoots back.

"Whatever," Isak mumbles.

They're almost there, the school looming in the distance, and Isak drops his head back and groans.

"That bad huh?" Eva says sympathetically.

"I honestly want to die," Isak says. He lolls his head around and glares at the building. He's so _tired_. He'd only gotten about three hours of sleep. After getting his pants off, him and Lea had combed every inch of his skin, looking for an exit wound, but they'd found nothing. Lea had even insisted on examining the skin in between his toes for any sign of scarring. Eventually, Lea had gotten frustrated and left and Isak spent the entire night unable to sleep, tossing and turning and thinking about the fact that he's apparently a freak of nature, that he'd gotten struck by lightning with no evidence of an exit wound anywhere on his body. It's troubling, to say the very least.

Isak's so caught up in his thoughts that he almost doesn't notice Eva's car rolling to a stop, halfway down the block from school.

Isak raises his eyebrows. "Uh, Eva? Why are we just stopped in the middle of the road?"

Eva frowns. "I, um, don't know? What the hell..." she trails off. She tries the ignition once, twice, three times, but the car still refuses to start. "It should be fully charged? This is so weird."

Jonas looks bewildered. "Has this happened before?"

Eva shakes her head, confused. "No? I literally don't even know what to do."

Isak checks his phone and bites his lip. "Well, you should figure it out within the next five minutes or we're going to be late."

Eva tries the ignition again and groans when nothing happens.

Jonas throws his hands up. "Screw this. Let's just walk. We're only half of a block away."

Eva glares at him. "And leave my car in the middle of the street, waiting for someone to come along and steal it? No, thank you."

Jonas stares at her. " _Steal_ it? How are they going to steal it when it doesn't even work?" He wrinkles his nose. "Also who the  _fuck_ would want to steal a Nissan?"

"Shut up, asshole!" Eva says angrily, smacking him upside the head. "Plenty of people, I'll have you know! This car is  _expensive_."

"Well it can't be that expensive if it just stops randomly in the middle of the fucking road!"

Isak sighs and tunes their bickering out. His lack of sleep is making him irritable, exhaustion settling deep in his bones. He places his palms flat against the seat and leans back into the seat, burrowing down into his hoodie. He just wants the goddamn car to start so he can get school over with as fast as possible so he can go home and  _sleep_ for an entire week-

The car starts.

Eva lets out a yelp of surprise and Jonas jumps violently, letting out a stream of curses.

"What the _hell_?" Eva breathes. "I didn't even start it! My hand was nowhere near the ignition!"

Jonas looks just as freaked out as Isak feels. "Your car is demonic, I swear. It's _possessed_."

Eva meets Isak's eyes in the rearview mirror and he stares back helplessly, shrugging at her.

She shakes her head. "Um," she says eloquently. "Um."

"Um," Isak echoes back.

The short ride to school is spent in silence. 

 

* * *

 

Isak is in the middle of doing his biology homework when his notebook is snatched away.

Isak looks over at Even and raises his eyebrows. Even raises his eyebrow right back. He scribbles something down, right under Isak's meticulously drawn Punnett squares, and passes it back to Isak.

_How was walking in the storm yesterday?_

Isak glances at the new music teacher, makes sure he isn't looking, before writing down a hurried,  _just swell. we had a whale of a time_ , and passes it back.

Even seems to like that. He bites his lip around a smile. When he passes it back, Isak reads,  _I'm really glad you enjoyed yourself. Now I'd hate to rip you away from all the fun you had, but I'd really like it if you came with me on a ride after this. You up for it?_

Isak swears his heart skips a beat. _Control yourself_ , he thinks to himself.  _You can do this. You can be a normal human being. Woo him._

He thinks hard and writes,  _oh, i don't know...busy schedule and all._

Even writes,  _Oh, come on. You can't find room for little ole' me?_

 _depends...what's in it for me?_ Isak hands the notebook off to Even and tries to suppress a giggle. He feels  _giddy_. He's never been very approachable or personable, his interactions with other people at school being limited to aggressive or violent scuffles when someone dares to insult Jonas' eyebrows or participation in theater or make fun of Eva's looks or his sister being a recluse or his mother's affinity for alcohol. He never imagined in a million years that he'd be sitting in the back row of detention, flirting with a cute, _older_ boy who rides a motorcycle using his biology notebook. Go figure.

 _A chance to spend an afternoon with yours truly?_ Even writes.

Isak writes,  _nope. try harder._ He passes it back and shakes his head pointedly for emphasis.

Even rolls his eyes.  _I'll buy you a milkshake from that place across town?_

Isak gives him a toothy smile.  _have me home by 8._

Isak's about to pass the notebook back when the boy sitting on the other side of Isak, Brekke, leans over and whispers to the boy on the other side of Even, "Andersen? Andersen? Play me back on Cup Pong."

"No way, dude. You cheat," Andersen hisses back. He has to lean almost entirely over Even, pressing him into the seat, and Even looks over at Isak, his eyebrow raised.

"How the hell do you cheat at an iOS game?" Brekke shoots back. He looks angry, almost as if the fact that Andersen hasn't played him back on Cup Pong has deeply offended him in some way. 

"I don't know, but you found a way," Andersen says. 

Isak has had enough of this. "Both of you," he whispers harshly, "Sit down before you get caught and screw all of us over."

Brekke ignores him, instead choosing to bend over and dig around in his bag. He lets out a small noise of victory, straightens back up with a pencil clutched tightly in his fist, and launches it straight at Andersen.

Even reaches out and easily catches it before it hits Andersen in the face. "Didn't you hear him?" he says lowly, in this threatening voice. "Sit down and shut up."

They sit down and shut up. 

Even catches his eye and smiles, winking at him. He tosses Brekke's pencil to the ground and plucks Isak's notebook out of his grasp, looking over Isak's latest message. He looks back up and mouths,  _Looking forward to it._

Isak feels warm inside for the rest of detention. 

**Author's Note:**

> this is loosely based off of the missing series by meg cabot. there are certain aspects that i've borrowed but, after this chapter, it'll completely diverge. enjoy!!!
> 
> talk to me on tumblr: @kingofpoplouis


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